


Do Something

by eprime



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-18
Updated: 2010-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-09 13:36:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eprime/pseuds/eprime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Prank, something has got to give.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Something

It had been a full week after Sirius sent Snape to the shack and to any outsider, the four boys went on as usual. Sirius knew the truth of it, though. Remus was as placid as he ever was. He didn't flinch away when Sirius spoke or when he nosed around the edges of Remus's personal space in an instinctive attempt to test the boundaries of this new landscape they were all navigating while pretending not to. James was perhaps a tad more jocular than normal, constantly clapping each of them on the back with an "All right, lads?" Peter's laugh went a little high pitched and lasted a bit too long whenever James or Sirius made a spectacle of themselves in the common room or the great hall. Only Remus went through each day as if it were no different from those that happened before. It was driving Sirius mad.

"Right," he said, pushing off his bed and crossing the room in a few strides to stare down belligerently at Remus. Peter glanced up, startled, from his spread open Divination text, his eyes going wide as he saw where Sirius's attention was focused. "Sirius," James said, his voice a warning, but Sirius flicked a quick, imperious gesture at James to cut off the rest of what he was going to say.

Remus had raised his eyes from his own homework and looked at Sirius with a mildly inquisitive expression. "Something you need, Sirius?"

"Yes, there is actually." Sirius took another step forward and gripped the post at the foot of Remus's bed. "I want you to do something."

"Do something?" Remus glanced down at the parchment and books and quill littering his bed, then looked back at Sirius, arching one eyebrow.

"Not your sodding homework, Remus." Sirius scowled, leaning forward until his face was inches from Remus. "I want you to do something about us--about this--about what's happened. Just--quit being so polite and meek and fucking _blank_ all the time. It's fucking annoying."

"Sirius," James growled and Peter sucked in a shocked breath, flicking his eyes back and forth between Sirius and Remus and then shifting to James as he jumped off his bed to glare at Sirius, his hands clenching at his sides.

Sirius ignored him, not taking his eyes off Remus.

"I'm annoying you, am I?" Remus asked, still infuriatingly calm. His face and voice smooth and unconcerned. Sirius seethed. "Yes, yes, you are _dear Moony_. That's exactly it."

_That_ garnered a tightening of the knuckles, a perceptible thinning of lips. Sirius supposed it was the use of the nickname that did it more than anything else. Nothing was ever said outright, but it was tacitly understood that he'd lost all rights to utter that particular term of endearment.

James's snarl was the only warning before he flew at Sirius, balling the front of Sirius's shirt in one hand and drawing his other hand back to form a fist. Peter's gasp was loud and eager, and Sirius was exultant. Even if it wasn't Remus reacting, someone was finally doing something. But before James's fist could connect Remus was off his bed, a hand flat against each of their chests, pushing them away from each other. And, God, that was even better. Remus was touching him, and that hadn't happened, not even the most casual of accidental touches, for seven days. "No, James." Remus said in a low voice, but firm.

"Moony..."

"I said no, James." Remus took his hand away from Sirius, turning his back to him--_No!_, Sirius thought viciously--to put his hand on James's shoulder. "Please. I can handle this. Let me."

James stared back at Remus, practically vibrating with indignation and frustration. He nodded jerkily, then threw a venomous look at Sirius. "He'd better keep his mouth shut then."

"Sit down, James," Remus gave him a little push, but Sirius stepped forward.

"Sorry, but _he_ won't keep his mouth shut," Sirius ground out. "I'm sick and tired of you playing the martyr, Remus. Feeling sorry for yourself. I know you're angry. I know you're hacked off. But you can't just say that, can you? No, you have to put on that fucking face of yours and pretend--pretend that you--that you're above it all. Oh, yeah, you say it's done, it's over, you say you forgive me, but we all know the truth, and so we all have to tiptoe around pretending all the fucking time because you can't just own up to what you really feel."

Remus has gone absolutely white by now, and he held himself rigidly, arms straight down at his sides, his fingernails digging into the pads of his hands. "You think I'm angry? he asked. "You think I'm feeling sorry for myself?" His voice got louder. "You think I'm pretending--that I _lied_ about that? You're calling me a liar?"

"We all know you lie, Remus. It's what you do." And now, Sirius is right up in Remus's face. "What are you going to do about it? Any of it? Are you going to smile and walk away? Are you going to stick your nose in a book and pretend you can even focus on what the words say? You think you can do these things and make me invisible or make yourself invisible and you'd like that wouldn't you? But I'm not going to let you! You lie and lie and say it's all okay, but it's not. You think you can--"

Before Sirius knew it he was shoved hard, and he stumbled back several paces, half-falling onto Peter's bed. Peter's and James's eyes were wide with shock, mesmerized by the charged conflict.

"You don't know what I think." Remus bit out. "You don't know what I feel. You don't know anything."

"Then tell me," Sirius taunted. "Show me. Teach me, Profession Lupin."

"Fuck you," Remus spit. "Why should I? Why should I even bother?"

That drew Sirius up short, and his heart clenched. Why should he? And he knew in his aching heart that Remus shouldn't trust him with any of that, but he's already damned for a fool anyway. "Because I don't want to have the rest of my time here filled up with fake pleasantries and oh so civil requests to pass the pumpkin juice, please. Because I _want_ to be friends again, and you won't let me _do_ anything to make it better, because--"

"Because you feel a little guilty," Remus sneered. "Is that it? You want me to what--to punch you a few times and call it even, something like that? I could take points, give you a detention. Would that make it all okay?"

"Now you're getting the idea," Sirius pushed up from Peter's bed and nodded fiercely.

"God, you're so stupid. You fucking idiot." Remus dragged both his hands through his hair, screwing his face up as he sucked in a shuddering breath. "Fine. Fine then."

He opened his eyes and the expression in them was vicious. Not cold, not blank, burning, and Sirius felt his own chest flame in response. "We'll do it your way," Remus said. Sirius tossed his hair over his shoulders with a defiant shake of his head, meeting the challenge of Remus's words.

"James, Peter, could you please leave us the room for a while?" Remus asked without moving his eyes from Sirius. "Oh, yeah, sure," Peter immediately hopped off the bed and made for the door. "I'm staying," said James, who was white-faced with a mild shock, but whose jaw was set in a determined angle. Peter hesitated at the door. "Go on, Peter," James said. "I'll see you later." Peter nodded, not wanting to leave, but unable to counter say a direct request from James. He flicked one last avid look between Remus and Sirius before he shut the door reluctantly behind him.

Abruptly Remus turned and reached for his wand on the bedside table and wordlessly sent silencing and locking charms to the spot where Peter had stood seconds before. He turned a mocking smile on Sirius. "You're a spoilt child, you know that don't you? A sodding brat." Remus stepped closer, his wand pointing, almost grazing, Sirius's sternum. "Arrogant, selfish, hateful." Sirius flinched almost imperceptibly as Remus tapped the end of the wand against Sirius's chest in counterpoint of each word, wondering if he was going to be hexed in the next seconds. Remus knew many painfully creative hexes.

"So I've been told," Sirius answered, his bravado slightly lessened by the hoarse raspiness of his voice.

"I'm sure," Remus said. He cocked his head, looking at James for a moment then back to Sirius. "You want to make up for what happened, do you?" he asked, mocking again.

"Yes," Sirius answered, lifting his chin.

"You'll do anything I say? Anything I ask?"

"Yes." As if Sirius would ever back down. Especially not for this.

"All right, then." Remus nodded, and he didn't hesitate, just went and sat on Sirius's bed. "James," he said, "you'll want a good view." He gestured toward James's bed which was steps across from where he sat. Sirius could tell James wanted to say something, wanted to ask what was coming, but he kept quiet as he sat gingerly on the edge of his own bed watching Remus.

"Drop trou, Sirius." Remus said with utter calm, though his words are edged with steel.

James did gasp then and Sirius couldn't help himself from flushing a deep red at the words. Whatever he was expecting it wasn't this. "Wh--what?"

"You heard me." Remus said. "If you've changed your mind..."

"No!" Sirius dropped his head, shielding his face with his hair as he fumbled with his flies. His trousers fell to the floor, pooling around his ankles and bare feet. The tails of his school shirt reached to the tops of his thighs, so they covered his pants front and back leaving only his long legs showing, but Sirius felt much more exposed than that as he stepped out of the pile and waited in the center of the four beds for Remus to say something.

"Do you know what I'm going to do?" Remus asked, and his voice sounded thoughtful, dreamy almost. Sirius had to swallow, but he hid it under the fall of his hair again, before raising his face to Remus and shaking his head, not trusting his voice this time. His stomach was twisting with sensations that he couldn't quite put a name too.

"I'm going to give you what you wanted." Remus didn't sound angry at all anymore. He sounded soft, gentle almost and Sirius felt like his insides were melting, turning all his organs into a seething, wet mess of intestinal lava. "I'm going to punish you."

Sirius almost groaned. Did he mean--he couldn't _possibly_ mean--"

"I'm going to spank you," Remus continued, not glancing at James this time when he sucked in a shaky breath. _Oh_. Sirius flushed red again, but he couldn't look away, and he wondered how he ever thought Remus wasn't angry, wasn't _livid_ because his eyes were flashing and Sirius felt his skin burn wherever their gaze landed. "Give you just the thrashing that a spoilt little bastard like you deserves." Sirius could only stare dumbly for a moment.

"Come here." Remus tossed his wand on the bed and leaned back, hands placed on either side of his hips. Sirius wanted his feet to move, but they seemed stuck to the cold stone floor. Remus's mouth twisted into a knowing smirk. "Too good for it? Think you're better than this? Being put over the knee of a werewolf halfblood?" It was the self-mocking viciousness of the words that galvanized Sirius into action and he took the few steps that put him in front of Remus. They sting, and Sirius knows he's done nothing but add to the self-loathing that Remus internalized all the time.

Remus nodded. "You can leave the shirt on," he said, "but I think you'll need to lose the pants." Sirius could feel the eyes of Remus and James as he slid his pants off and down, stepping out them and kicking them away, and he was thankful again for his long, white school shirt and curtain of hair. He wondered what James made of it. If he was as freaked out and off center by all this as Sirius suddenly was. Probably, but James was furious with him, so he wouldn't say anything to stop it. Not that Sirius would stand for that.

"Scared, Black?" Remus smiled, not entirely cruelly, and Sirius managed a smirk.

"You wish."

Remus laughed, and Sirius could hear the bubbles of anger again filtering through his voice. It made him shiver.

"Over my knees," Remus ordered, spreading his legs slightly and planting his feet firmly on the floor. It was awkward, and Sirius hated to be awkward. Gracefulness was second nature to him, and losing any element of that natural fluidity made his insides squirm. Remus's legs were steady, though, and he shifted Sirius forward a little so that Sirius's chest was pressed firmly against one thigh. His head hung a little lower than his body and the blood was already beginning to pool in his cheeks. Remus angled his other leg slightly higher and pushed the shirt up over the small of Sirius's back, exposing the pale skin of his arse. Sirius didn't know what to do with his hands, he didn't think he could reach the floor with them, so he curled one around Remus's knee and fisted the other in the tangled sheets of his bed.

"Ask me for it." Remus said.

God. He would never make the mistake of thinking Remus wasn't a sadistic bastard ever again. Why the fuck had he thought this was a good idea.

"I--" Sirius croaked out, swallowed. He had asked for this. _Was_ willing to do whatever it took to have things the way they were before. "Will--will you punish me?"

Remus made a disapproving sound in the back of his throat. "Ask nicely."

"_Please_." Sirius said through clenched teeth, mentally cursing him.

Remus's laugh was vindictive. "Punish you how, Black?"

"Remus--" The humiliation was unrelenting and Sirius can _feel_ the slow creep of red that was suffusing his skin. He wondered how far the blush went, if it covered every inch like his senses were telling him. The unseen stares of the other two boys weighed on his skin like brushes of fingers.

"I asked you a question, Black." Remus started to shift as if he was going to push Sirius off his lap and stand.

Sirius took a sharp breath. "Spank me," he said quickly, and he added a grudging, "Please." He heard a soft, surprised huff of laughter from James and the humiliation seeped deeper into Sirius's skin, but Remus settled, his right hand sliding up the back of Sirius's thigh. "Good. Now clasp your hands behind your back. If you cover yourself, this ends immediately. No more chances. You understand, Black?"

Sirius nodded, the blood pounding thick and fast in his pulse points--temples, wrists, neck as he twisted his arms behind him, tangling his fingers together and holding on tightly.

"I can't hear you."

"Yes," Sirius managed to answer. "I understand."

"You know," Remus rested one hand between Sirius's shoulder blades and slid his other up over the curve of his buttocks, "My grandmother used to make my father go get a switch from the willow tree that grew in her back garden when he got a little too out of control, a little too mouthy for his own good. She'd strip off the leaves in front him and then swish it back and forth to make it crack in the air. Just the sound of it was usually enough to scare him into good behavior. He told me she used it on him once, though, and it hurt like hell. Left little strips of fire along his thighs and arse and he couldn't sit down comfortably for days. Do you think you've earned yourself something like that now, Black? Should I transfigure your quill into a nice long, whippy willow switch, or should I send you down to the lake yourself and have you fetch one back up here. Give you some time on the way back to think about what you've done and what's going to happen to that pampered, spoilt, tender arse of yours?"

Sirius bit his lip hard, stifling some small sound that came from a sudden heat in his belly, a shame from the reaction Remus's words were causing in his body. He was sure this was not what Remus had in mind, but, oh, his hand was so warm, heating his skin, just like his voice was heating his insides.

"Or I could use your hairbrush. That might be poetic justice, too, yeah? Perfect symbol of your arrogance and vanity and selfish, childish entitlement. How many strokes do you think it would take for that heavy silver brush to brand those carved initials into your lily white arse? Hm? Because you've lived up so well to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, after all."

The low blow tightened Sirius's chest and he could hardly believe it has come from Remus, who never took advantage, who has always been there with quiet comfort and encouragement. But what can Sirius say to that when it was true? It startled a desperate little sound from him, though. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Remus. Please..."

"You're not sorry yet," Remus bit out. "But you will be." And without warning he brought his hand down hard on the round curve of Sirius's arse.

Sirius swallowed a gasp.

"You know you deserve this, don't you?" Remus kept raining down steady smacks, lifting his knee so the waiting flesh tilted obscenely higher, showing off the reddening skin.

James's eyes were impossibly wide behind his glasses and he watched Remus's hand fall in unblinking fascination.

"Yes, I--" Sirius choked out.

"Keep your hands still," Remus interrupted, not slowing the incessant, stinging blows.

"Trying. Oh, it hurts..." Sirius bit his lip hard, tasting blood as the skin split and he tried to focus on that pain to keep his hands tightly locked.

"How do you think Snape felt facing down a slavering, blood-thirsty monster, Black? Do you think that felt good?" Remus asked, his voice leaking all kinds of emotion now that Sirius had said, _had thought_, he wanted.

"Not a monster..." Sirius gasped, shaking his head violently.

"How do you think James felt?" Remus ignored him, his voice rising now. "He couldn't even transform without risking all of you. Your futures, everything. He risked his life for all of us." And still his hand came down with punishing force, large and unforgiving. Sirius's skin was burning, and he was writhing, trying to twist away from the pain of the words, too.

"So sorry," he whispered, unable to keep a sob from slipping past his lips.

"He could've let Snape go. No one likes him right? He's a greasy git, right? He deserves whatever he gets, isn't that what you said? Who cares if he dies. Who cares if I make Moony a killer. He's a monster, after all. That's what monsters are meant to do. Isn't that what you thought, Sirius?" It was the tremble in Remus's voice that utterly devastated him.

"No, no" he choked. "Please, Remus."

And, God, Remus's hand must be swollen now, red and throbbing to match Sirius's arse. The stinging slaps didn't stop, though. And, fuck knows, Sirius deserved it, deserved so much more, because the hot pain of Moony's punishment shouldn't be making him so wild, so depraved. His cock should not feel so good pressing against Remus's thigh. He shouldn't be noticing the friction of the rough wool with each slap against his bruised and heated skin. He was aching, aching inside and out and, fuck, he couldn't think, could do anything but take it and want and need. _So selfish_, he thought with a crazed inner laugh. _So fucking selfish_.

"It doesn't matter what happens to anyone else, does it? Biting. Turning. Killing. Azkaban. Execution. The Kiss. It's all so insignificant to Sirius Black." Hot droplets fell on his back, his arse. _Oh. He's--oh, no_.

"Oh, God, Moony, please. Never meant to hurt you, never. Never meant to hurt you. Sorry, sorry." Sirius shuddered, wracked with sobs he'd given up trying to hide.

"Thought we were friends, Sirius. Thought it meant something. Thought I could trust you." Remus's legs were trembling and the slaps were coming slower now, lingering to knead almost tenderly, unconsciously, the soft globes of flesh stained deep, hot red now.

Sirius moaned. His senses were jumbled, overloaded, and his body reacting without his control now, rocking underneath Remus's hand helplessly. And, oh, if he didn't hate him before he would now.

"You can," Sirius choked out desperately. "It means everything. You mean everything."

Remus went utterly still and quiet, not even breathing it seemed, and the only sounds were Sirius's harsh sobs and the only movement the tiny pushes of his hips that he couldn't for life or death control.

"Padfoot." Remus's hoarse voice murmuring that name, beloved name, swept through Sirius in a sublime wave of hope.

"'msorry. I'll do anything. Don't hate me."

"Padfoot. Oh god, you're--"

Sirius felt sick with shame, wanting to twist away and run forever from the look he knew must be in Remus's eyes now. James's, too. He kept position, though, fingers going white with the strain of staying clasped.

"Shh. S'okay. Shh. Oh...let me...please..." And Remus was gently pulling at his fingers, moving his hands away and pulling Sirius over onto his lap. Sirius hissed as his bruised flesh made contact, and Sirius couldn't help struggling a little then, wanting to curl up and hide the evidence of his erection, but Remus pulled him back against his chest, cradling him.

"m'sorry, Moony."

"It's okay, shh...it's over..." Remus stroked soothing hands over Sirius's shoulders and chest, around the curve of his hip. He looked over at James with wide, scared eyes. "I'm sorry, God, I'm sorry, Padfoot. I shouldn't've--" James was pale, his expression shocked and thoughtful.

"Should've." Sirius tucked his chin down and turned into the curve of Remus's neck. "Deserved it."

"You were so good...so good." Slowly, tentatively, Remus continued to pet Sirius, soothing strokes to his back and arm, carding his fingers through his hair, still meeting James's eyes.

After a moment, James nodded, just a short lift of his chin, and he pushed up off the bed. For a moment, he stood awkwardly, then cleared his throat as if to speak. Sirius tensed in the circle of Remus's arms, and James merely nodded again, moving silently to the door and removing the spells to slip out the door. It closed behind him.

"Sirius," Remus said. "Can I--" And then his hand was sliding between them, gently circling around the hard length of Sirius's cock.

Sirius inhaled sharply, shocked and needy. "Moony."

"Shh. Please let me." Remus's hand pumped and squeezed gently, coaxing moans from Sirius as his head rolled back against Remus's shoulder. Remus pressed a kiss to his temple, whispering soft words against the skin as his hand moved in an irresistible rhythm. "So good, Padfoot," he whispered. "So proud of you."

Sirius moaned and came with a shudder, pulsing white sticky streams of come over Remus's warm hand, and then he turned, burrowing into Remus, letting Remus pull him closer and hold him tight as he rocked Sirius tenderly, soothing him like a child and murmuring indistinct words into Sirius's hair.

"Do you really forgive me?" Sirius finally breathed--couldn't help asking.

Remus made a pained sound, the hand around Sirius's waist squeezing almost painfully.

"I do. I did. I just...you make me..." Remus sighed heavily, and Sirius knew that he was already beating himself up for this, blaming himself, and making what happened tonight worse than what Sirius did to him. As if Sirius himself weren't the cause of all of it. As if it hadn't made everything crystal clear.

"You can do it again," he said, raising his chin to look Moony in the eye.

"I...what?"

"Whenever I do something stupid and selfish--I'll try not to, but I probably will at some point because I'm an arse and a fuckup."

"That's not--"

"I mean it. I want it. Want you, Moony."

"Padfoot." Remus shook his head, frowning a little. And he eased Sirius off his lap pushing Sirius over onto his stomach in the middle of the bed.

"Don't, Moony, don't shut me out again. Please," Sirius begged.

"Shh. I won't," Remus promised. "God, Sirius." He trailed his fingers reverently over the abused flesh of Sirius's arse. "You're skin is, God, so hot. So beautiful like this." And Sirius arched up helplessly as Remus pressed his lips to the curve of each cheek, tonguing slowly at the raised, reddened welts marking the fleshy curves. "I should heal these," he murmured, without moving his mouth away from Sirius's skin.

"No," Sirius groaned. "Leave them. I want them. Want to feel them. Please." His cock was hardening again, making him ache for more.

"Roll over," Remus whispered, raising just enough so Sirius could wriggle around beneath him. Sirius's breath stuttered as the slide of the sheets abraded his sore arse, but Sirius rubbed his hips against the bed deliberately, wanton and desperate, relishing the rough pain of it. Remus's pupils were impossibly wide and dark as he watched the display, and he sucked in sharp breaths of air, almost panting as Sirius writhed, looking beautiful and debauched in the messy tumble of covers.

Remus's hand, still sticky with come, wrapped around Sirius's cock and then his mouth was there, too, warm and wet and sucking until Sirius felt his eyes roll back in his head. Remus took his time, licking and teasing until Sirius was nearly insensible. Heat pooled in his groin, and Sirius tensed, poised between the sting of the rough glide of sheets, and the hot, moist heaven of Remus's mouth until he was coming hard enough to make his vision go white, spilling moans into the muted air of the half-closed bed curtains. And then Remus was at his mouth, biting, licking into him, claiming, as he thrust against Sirius's belly, shuddering against him and then dropping heavily onto him, finally going still.

This was it, Sirius realized. What he wanted. This was real. Sticky and dirty and honest and real, and he wasn't invisible. Remus wasn't intangible anymore.


End file.
